Disclaimer: I do not own any of the following BBC characters

Author's Note: Hi everyone! Yes I am still alive. Sorry I haven't updated in a while, I've been very busy lately and haven't had the time to update as often as I would like to. Please keep in mind though that I have absolutely no intention of abandoning this story. I have a lot of ideas for it and can't wait to write them all down. I just haven't had the time lately. So I will update as much as I can whenever I'm free. (most likely when I'm on break or around the holidays :P) So here's the next chapter :)

Outfits: claires_outfit_chapter_11/set?id=99707944

Playlist: /theshadowphantom102/the-artist-and-the-doctor

The Doctor walked solemnly around the console, flipping random switches and buttons. The frown on his face continued to deepen as he manned the TARDIS.

"Doctor…" I started, but was cut off before I could finish my sentence.

"They're going to stop." He cut off grimly.

"What?"

"They're thinking of stopping. The Ponds." He said sourly.

"You don't know that for sure." I attempted to reassure him.

He shook his head causing his floppy brown hair to hide his eyes from view. I suddenly felt a strong urge to brush the fringe from his face, but I quickly pushed the thought aside. "They probably won't keep up for much longer. I can tell they're starting to tire of the adventures. They probably want to settle down and live a normal, married, human life." He grumbled before locking in the coordinates and pulling the lever.

I didn't have enough time to react to the sudden lurch the TARDIS made once she took off, knocking me off my feet in the process. Luckily I landed in the captain's chair. I sunk into the chair in relief once the TARDIS started to fly more smoothly.

A faint beeping rang throughout the TARDIS, the Doctor pulled the screen into view and smiled slightly. "Claire, go put on some warm clothes and a pair of boots. We're going to London!" He called, now jumping excitedly around the console punching in a new set of coordinates.

"Fine, just try not to lurch the TARDIS about this time." I said getting up.

"Sorry about that." He pouted slightly.

I giggled as I made my way to my room anxiously wondering what we were going to be doing in London.

I bounced back into the console room dressed in a fading dark purple sweater, gray skinny jeans and gray boots.

"So, what are we seeing in London?" I asked holding on to the railing as the Doctor landed the TARDIS.

"Visiting an old friend of mine." The Doctor smiled. "I'm sure you've heard of him."

"Well it couldn't be the queen since you said it was a guy… I don't know Daniel Radcliff?" I guessed.

"Daniel Radcliff? I wouldn't take you to London to meet an actor!"

"I'm sorry, I don't know of that many Brits." I huffed.

The Doctor snorted.

"What are you laughing at?"

The Doctor quickly fixed his composure and took me by the hand, leading me to the doors. "Nothing."

"You're laughing at me aren't you?"

"No of course not."

I raised me eyebrows at him and he crumbled slightly under my gaze before muttering a quick 'sorry'.

We stepped out into a cold, dark, alleyway. The pavement was damp from a recent rain and a musty scent hung in the air.

The Doctor pulled a look of disgust. "Well this is pleasant." He said sarcastically before grabbing my hand and locking the TARDIS behind him.

"So this is London…" I looked up and down the alleyway with caution. Something didn't feel quite right.

"No, well actually yes. This is a dank, dark alleyway of London. Not very pleasing to the eye, but it is London." He rambled glancing down at the psychic paper. I tried reading over his shoulder, but it was still blank. "Left on the alleyway, take a right down the corridor and out into the park. Meet me at the bench farthest from your left." The Doctor read. He rolled his eyes and stuffed the psychic paper back into his pocket. "Never likes to be simple." The Doctor grumbled.

We followed the instructions and walked into the park. On the designated bench sat a shadowy figure. I gripped the Doctor's hand tighter, but relaxed slightly when he rubbed my hand lightly with his thumb in reassurance.

We approached the bench and the figure stood. As we got closer I was able to make out his features. He was a very tall, thin man, clad in a long dark trench coat with a navy scarf wrapped around his neck. He seemed like he was in his thirties with pale white skin, icy blue eyes and curly black hair.

"Did the ginger with her pointy nosed husband decide to give up?" The mysterious man asked in a low monotone voice.

The Doctor sighed heavily. "Not yet. But they're considering it. It'll most likely happen soon."

The man nodded and settled his icy blue gaze on me. I fidgeted uncomfortably not liking the sudden attention I was receiving.

"Ah, Claire this is an old friend of mine Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock this is Claire, she's-" The Doctor didn't get a chance to finish for Sherlock had cut him off.

"She's your companion. She's just recently started traveling with you, I'll say maybe a day or so, but from the way she's practically clinging to you, she feels she's known you for years. Which is unusual for her since she's usually not so quick to trust people due to a history with anxiety, but she's completely at ease when in your presence. She's rather shy due to the fact that she's standing slightly behind you and I'm guessing she's American. Perhaps from New England? She's an artist due to the state of her hands, but none of those reasons are why you chose her to travel with you."

"Sherlock." The Doctor warned.

"There's something different about her."

"SHERLOCK!" The Doctor raised his voice taking me completely off guard.

Sherlock stared at him in bemusement. "My apologies." He outstretched his hand to me. I shook it warily with my free hand.

"How… did you know about all of that?" I asked in amazement.

"Trust me. His explanation will make your head hurt." The Doctor mumbled in my ear.

"So why am I really here Sherlock? Need another cover up for your fake suicide?" The Doctor joked.

Sherlock shot him a glare. "No. I need your help with a case."

The Doctor raised his eyebrows in interest. "Well, that's new."

"There's been multiple disappearing's happening over the course of the last couple of weeks. All of them are young women with similar appearances. I assume who ever is doing this is looking for someone. Yet, they have all been found again, but they have aged tremendously with their necks snapped."

"And why exactly do you need my help?" The Doctor asked cautiously.

"Witnesses claim that before they had gone missing a stone statue of an angel was present. These same statues were present for all of the woman who had gone missing and later returned fully aged with their necks snapped."

A dark expression crossed the Doctor's features. "Weeping Angels." The Doctor muttered in annoyance.

"So you can help then?" Sherlock asked hopefully.

"I'm the only one who can."